


someone save me if you will

by gilligankane



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Background Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught - Freeform, F/F, Gen, Wynaught Brotp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 09:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11711169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: “You know Wynonna? You’re really mean when you drink before noon.” Nicole drops her marker to the table and rounds it, heading for the door. “And you drink before noon too often.”-AKA 4 Times Wynonna Drank Before Noon (And Was Mean) and 1 Time She Didn't.





	someone save me if you will

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheGaySmurf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/gifts).



> A lovely thank you to TheGaySmurf for looking this over and coming up with a title (from "Save Me" by Shinedown). God bless the good ones.

i.

It's not her first 10am call from the people at Shorty's.

She's only been in town for a month now but she makes at least three runs at week to Shorty's - to pick Billy or Tommy or Robbie off the floor and give them a courtesy ride home. She's familiar with it by now and it hardly fazes her anymore that there are people in the world who drink before noon; that most of those people apparently inhabit Purgatory. But when she gets to Shorty's, Gus is particularly ornery and the bar is eerily quiet. She tips her hat at Gus; she had hoped to attend the visiting hours for Curtis but so had everyone else in town. Being the new person on the force means she always draws the short straw, so she had stayed at the station and manned the phones.

"Over there," Gus mutters, nodding towards the bar corner of the bar.

Nicole peers through the dim lighting and tries to hide her confusion. “Isn’t that-”

“Yes,” Gus says sharply. “And she’s had enough.”

Nicole pauses for a moment but takes a deep breath, rests her hands on her utility belt, and walks towards Wynonna Earp with as much confidence as she can manage.

She’s only been in town for a month now, but Purgatory is small and talk is cheap. She knows all about Wynonna Earp and the bridges she burned on her way out of town years ago. She even knows about the bridges she burned on her way back in. 

“Ms. Earp?” she greets softly.

Wynonna lifts her head up from the bar top, her eyes dull and unfocused, and grunts at her. “They let ladies be cops now?”

Nicole resists the urge to roll her eyes and puts a firm hand on Wynonna’s arm. “I’m gonna take you home now, Ms. Earp.”

Wynonna seems to sober slightly at that. “Are you kidding me?” She scans the bar until she finds Gus who is staring back at her, unflinching. “Are you kidding me?”

Gus takes a step forward and Wynonna goes to move off the stool she’s on. Her feet don’t hit the floor at the right moment and she stumbles sideways into Nicole, her hands clumsy and grabbing at Nicole’s shoulder mic for leverage. Nicole falters a little, Wynonna slipping right through her attempt to hold her upright. They hit the edge of the bar and Wynonna’s hands are at her utility belt now but she can’t catch herself. Nicole finally finds the loop of Wynonna’s belt and laces her fingers through it, tugging back hard. Wynonna’s face stops inches away from another stool.   
They’re still for a long moment before Nicole clears her throat and uses her other hand to help Wynonna get into a more vertical position.

“This is exactly what I’m talkin’ about,” Gus grumbles, shaking her head.

Nicole wishes she hadn’t done that. She watches the words flash in Wynonna’s eyes.

“Oh, what?” Wynonna says, dragging out the words. “You don’t have the guts to toss me out of here yourself so you called the  _ pigs _ ? You’ve lost your edge, Gus. You used to push me right out the door with a look. But guess what? You can’t do it anymore. I’m  _ grown up _ now. I can do what I want. And if I want to come back to this armpit of the west, I  _ can _ .”

Gus’s eyes narrow. “Go home, Wynonna. Sleep it off.”

“ _ Home _ .” Wynonna snorts. Her eyes cloud for a moment before she shakes her head. Nicole can see her refocus her anger. “This isn’t my home.”

“Then why did you even come back here?” There’s a pleading note to Gus’s voice, like she’s looking for an answer she knows won’t ever come.

“Curtis-”

“Don’t you say his name,” Gus hisses.

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Curtis  _ died _ , Gus. Get over it.” She waves her hand dismissively. “People die all the goddamn time in this place.”

Gus’s hand tightens around a glass and Nicole thinks, just for a minute, about taking it from her in case she decides she wants to throw it across the bar. Wynonna would never duck in time. 

“ _ This _ ,” Gus spits. “This is why you shouldn’t have come back. You selfish, selfish girl. You never think about  _ anyone _ but yourself. God forbid you care about me or-or Waverly-”

Wynonna jerks out of Nicole’s hold, stepping into the bar and knocking a stool to one side. “Don’t you dare bring Waverly into this.”

_ Waverly _ . 

Nicole knows all about Waverly Earp, too. She knows how this town adores her and how she’s got the prettiest smile Nicole has ever seen and how she’s an Earp, but she’s  _ not like them _ , everyone says. Nicole has been working up the courage to introduce herself and maybe ask her to grab a coffee sometime. 

“You’re embarrasin’ that girl, just by bein’ here,” Gus continues over Wynonna’s threat. 

“ _ You  _ kept her from me,” Wynonna says. She throws an arm out and catches another stool. Nicole stops this one from hitting the floor. “She’s  _ my _ sister. Just because you lost your person doesn’t mean you get to steal mine, too.”

Gus’s eyes flash and Nicole decides now is the time to step in. She puts herself in front of Wynonna, her back to Gus. She holds her hands up in front of her, edging Wynonna back slowly.

“Okay,” she says calmly. “We’re going to go.” Wynonna opens her mouth and Nicole raises her voice, speaking over whatever she’s going to say. “So, what I need is for you to take a few steps back, maybe pick up that stool you knocked over, and head for the door.”

Wynonna doesn’t wait for her to finish speaking. She turns and kicks at the stool on the floor, nearly losing her balance. Nicole grabs her by the elbow and holds her steady, guiding her across the floor and up the uneven stairs. She spares a glance back at Gus but the other woman has disappeared; the doors to the storeroom are swinging closed. Wynonna trips on the stairs and over the threshold out onto the street, but Nicole’s hands at her back keep her from falling down. 

She opens the back door to the cruiser and steps back, giving Wynonna space to get in on her own. Wynonna stares at the backseat for a moment before she reluctantly gets in, her feet clumsy and her body swaying.

Wynonna slumps into the backseat of the cruiser and rests a hand over her eyes. Nicole settles in the driver’s seat and adjusts the rearview mirror so she can see Wynonna. 

“Where to?” she asks.

Wynonna huffs but mumbles something that sounds like ‘homestead’. Nicole knows enough about Purgatory to know what general direction the Earp land is. She starts the car and idles for a moment, giving Wynonna a second to adjust to the rumble of the car before she takes off.

“ _ Shit _ ,” she thinks she hears Wynonna whisper as she pulls out onto the road. 

 

  
  
-

  
ii.

She’s isn’t on duty; not technically. She won’t be on duty for another few days, until her doctor clears her for active duty. She was allowed to leave the hospital, at least, but even getting past the automatic doors was a small victory. Each step feels like she has a knife being shoved between her ribs. Her hand aches. Her head pulses.

Shorty’s is the last place she should be.

But it’s the first place she’s sure she’ll find Wynonna.

She leans into the wall right past the doors and takes short, shallow breaths. She resists the urge to press a flat hand against her ribs and moves clumsily through the pulsing bodies on Shorty’s too-small makeshift dance floor.

She almost misses Wynonna. The carefree sway of her body and the long arcing reach of her arms is the complete opposite of leather-jacket-and-scowl Wynonna Earp Nicole is most familiar with. This isn’t even drinking-in-the-station Wynonna; this Wynonna is looser in so many ways.

“Haught!”

Nicole barely catches Wynonna as she launches herself across the dance floor, trapping Nicole against the bar. She’s so close, her whisky-warm breath against Nicole’s chin. Nicole flinches a little but Wynonna misses it.

“About time,” Wynonna says, as if she’s been waiting for hours for Nicole to show up. “I’ve been here since they opened and I’m gonna be here until they close. New personal record.”

Nicole gives Wynonna a hesitant smile. “That’s… something.”

“You’re alive,” Wynonna says, her grin too wide. “They said you died.”

“At the scene,” Nicole corrects, her voice low. She’s been getting phantom pains lately, of hands pressing against her chest until she can’t breath. “I died at the scene.”

“ _ Shit _ , dude.” Wynonna’s eyes are wide, her pupils blown out. She sways her hips to the music. “And here I thought I was the only one.”

Nicole falters for a moment. She hadn’t heard that. She hadn’t heard much but she’s almost positive that if Wynonna had nearly died, someone would have mentioned that.

“Well, not really. But being kidnapped and tortured by a lunatic with a God complex might actually be worse than dying.” Wynonna lets out a sharp laugh. “I think dying would have been better.”

Nicole’s hands hang awkwardly between their bodies. She gives in to the discomfort and rests one on Wynonna’s hip, trying to keep Wynonna from moving back and forth. Nicole can feel herself getting seasick. “I would have traded places with you in a heartbeat,” she breathes out. She means it; she would have rather it been her dragged through the woods and into a psycho's sadistic nightmares instead of being left for dead on the side of the road. She would have rather spared Wynonna -  _ and Waverly _ \- that pain.

Nicole sees the moment that Wynonna hears her and misunderstands her. Her body goes completely still and Nicole isn’t seasick anymore but she is sick to her stomach. She opens her mouth to try and take it back, to try and explain herself a little more, but Wynonna takes a staggering step back.

“No, Wynonna, I-”

Wynonna shakes her head and takes another step back.

Nicole can’t stop herself though. Waverly wouldn’t stay long enough for her to apologize, wouldn’t respond to any of her messages, and Nicole just needs them to understand how she feels like she failed them all. “I just…” She tries a different tactic. “I understand, what it feels like, I mean.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Sure you do. Of course you understand. You’re Nicole Haught, Nedley’s greatest recruit. He went all the way to the goddamn  _ moon _ for you, didn’t he? You definitely understand what it’s like to be laying in a bed,  _ useless _ , unable to move. You get it, don’t you.” She advances on Nicole now, trapping her against the bar again. It’s different this time; Nicole keeps her hands at her sides. “You don’t understand  _ anything _ . You’re a local flatfoot, remember?” 

Nicole recoils a little. The back of her throat burns with the memory of passing a bottle of whisky back and forth.

“You’re a rookie,” Wynonna continues, her voice like ice. “Someone more experienced? Maybe they wouldn’t have had to be resuscitated on site. Maybe they would have saved her.”

Nicole frowns slightly. “Saved who?”

Wynonna blinks a few times, her own mouth twisted into a frown. She shakes her head and the confusion clears. “Me,” she says. “I meant me.” She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something else but she shakes her head again and takes a step back. “I was wrong about you, Haught. You’re just like them. You won’t be able to save anyone. You’re… You’re not  _ good  _ enough.”

Nicole feels the burn in her throat move to the back of her eyes. She tries not to let the burn turn to tears but there’s something in Wynonna’s smirk that tells her she’s not so successful. She swallows down the pain that flares in her side and pushes past Wynonna, nearly elbowing her as she does.

“Oh, what?” Wynonna yells after her. “You can’t handle a little bit of truth?”

She makes it halfway home before Wynonna’s words find their target and she can’t stop the tears this time.

 

  
  
-  
  
  
iii.

Nicole is nearly asleep at the Earp’s kitchen table when the door kicks open. She’s on her feet instantly, her eyes clouded with pain and ibuprofen, reaching for her gun. She levels it just as Wynonna comes stumbling through the door, leaning heavily against Waverly. Nicole freezes for a moment before she reholsters her gun and grabs Wynonna’s other side, taking some of the weight off Waverly.

Waverly gives her a soft smile across Wynonna. Nicole smiles back and swallows the grimace of pain that wracks her body. It starts in her chest and flows into the tips of her fingers. Wynonna shifts and her shoulder bumps against the biggest bruise on Nicole’s chest. She can’t hide the wince this time; her arm jerks and her hand brushes against Wynonna’s jeans.

“Well,  _ hey _ ,” Wynonna says, her mouth overworking the words like she’s making an effort to be precise. “I know you think I got a top-shelf ass, but Waverly is right here.”

Nicole can feel the flush across her cheeks and avoids Waverly’s eyes. Waverly  _ is _ right there but they haven’t talked and the words ‘ _ kind of _ ’ are still echoing loudly in her ears. They drown out the memory of a gunshot sounding loudly. 

“Get an early start?” Nicole asks, eying the clock. It’s only 11:30 in the morning. Still, she figures, they’ll all been awake for nearly 28 hours.

“More like I never stopped!” Wynonna cheers. She throws her arms up in the air and her hand slaps Nicole in the face. Her eyes instantly tear up. She drops Wynonna’s weight and watches helplessly as Wynonna and Waverly sway to one side. Waverly rights them before they hit the wall, panting heavily.

“The couch,” Waverly huffs. “Forget the bed.”

Nicole grabs a blanket off the chair and lays it down over Wynonna as Waverly drops her onto the couch. Wynonna makes a face and pushes the blanket away.

“Seriously, guys, I’m…” Wynonna’s eyes start to shine in the lamplight. “I’m fine.”

“Wynonna, it’s okay,” Waverly says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Wynonna’s ear. “It’ll be okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Wynonna sucks in a shuddering breath. “I killed her,” she breathes out.

Nicole pauses at the end of the couch, unsure if she should be staying for this conversation. She puts a hesitant hand down on Waverly’s shoulder and squeezes. One of Waverly’s hands lands on hers. Their fingers lace gently.

“I know,” Waverly says quietly. “But it’s going to be okay.”

Wynonna’s eyes go hard. She laughs but it’s hollow and ugly.

“It is,” Waverly insists. “I understand-”

Wynonna scoffs. “What do you  _ understand _ ? I killed her.  _ Again _ .” She rolls away from Waverly.

Nicole feels her heart clench at the look on Waverly’s face.

“Wynonna, please,” Waverly says quietly. She glances up at Nicole briefly. “We need to stick together.”

“I was supposed to stick with her,” Wynonna argues. “I was supposed to… She was supposed to be…” Wynonna flinches when Waverly puts a soft hand on her arm. “God, Waverly. Can you give me a goddamn minute?”

Waverly staggers to her feet, colliding with Nicole uncomfortably. She pushes out of Nicole’s attempt to hug her and a moment later the door slams.

Nicole lingers a moment longer, staring at Wynonna’s impossibly still body. 

“Go, Haught,” Wynonna says darkly. She pauses. “Take care of her.”

Nicole doesn’t say anything but she pulls the blanket higher up Wynonna’s body before she turns and follows Waverly out into the cold. 

 

 

-  
  
  
v.

The evidence is starting to come together into a larger picture she can actually see. She’s got her ‘murder board’, even though she’s not working on a  _ murder _ \- Nedley calls it that to her face, everyone else calls it that behind her back - all set up near the counter so she can man the resource desk and get real work done at the same time.

Even if she hadn’t been right near the door, she would have seen Wynonna coming. She’s digging into her bra as she comes into the station and Nicole looks up to look down just as quickly.

“Did you know the last major storm we had in Purgatory, the Mayor’s street was plowed before the hospital,” she recites. She’s said it out loud a few times but she still can’t believe it. 

Wynonna barely looks at her. “Natural selection in action.”

Nicole glances up again and Wynonna is still struggling. “You okay there?” she asks, afraid of the answer. 

“Underwire, my ass,” Wynonna says. “I  _ swear  _ this thing fit yesterday.”

Nicole hesitates for a second. She wants to give Wynonna a second so it feels like she’s being acknowledged, but there’s a voice in her head screaming Waverly’s name, telling her to ask something about Waverly, anything. She counts to three and goes for it. “Hey, did Waves, uh,  _ pop in _ without me seeing her?”

She tries for nonchalant.

She fails.

Wynonna looks up at her, face guarded. “She’s home sick.” Her voice has an odd rhythm to it. 

Nicole frowns. “Really? ‘Cause, uh, I spoke to her last night and she sounded fine.” She wrings her hands together. 

Wynonna does a strange and unnecessary spin, pushing her back against the counter. It’s a quick spin and it takes Nicole a minute for her vision to settle. “She’s a good faker. Or haven’t you noticed?” 

Nicole’s frown deepens. It’s an out of the blue comment that stings a little more than it should. Wynonna’s voice is light but her words cut just below the surface. “It’s just,” she starts, standing up a little straighter. “I left three messages. Did she get them, or?”

Wynonna spins in a circle again, this time a little slower. The constant motion is new. It’s throwing Nicole off. She can’t keep her eyes on Wynonna’s face long enough to get a read on her reaction. Wynonna slaps her hands down on the table and Nicole barely controls her urge to jump. “Three  _ unreturned _ messages?”

Nicole tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

She fails.

“Waverly needs space,” Wynonna says slowly, as if she’s speaking to a small child. “She’s  _ dying _ under the weight of your expectations.”

Nicole feels the sinking feeling pulling her under now. She knew. She knew she was coming on too strong, too fast. And now Waverly…

“Waverly’s,” Wynonna starts, crossing to the counter and taking a pen from the jar. Her gait is strange and uneven and Nicole doesn’t even notice.

_ I came on too strong, too fast. I scared Waverly away. _

“...Not the ‘white picket fence in Purgatory’ girl you want her to be anymore.” Wynonna finishes.

_ I scared her. I pushed her away.  _

Then the sinking feeling turns to anger; anger at Wynonna for laying it out there. 

Anger at Wynonna for telling the truth.

“You know Wynonna? You’re really  _ mean _ when you drink before noon.” She drops her marker to the table. “And you drink before noon too often.”

She locks herself in the bathroom and turns off her phone. 

 

 

-  
  
  
i.

Rosita points to the corner seat as soon as Nicole comes down the stairs into Shorty’s. Nicole raises a hand in thanks and slips up behind Wynonna onto the stool next to her. She reaches across her, grabs the full beer in front of her, and drinks half of it in one breath.

When she puts it down, Wynonna is staring at her. There’s a mix of disgust and awe in her eyes.

Nicole shrugs. “Thirsty.”

“I guess so,” Wynonna grumbles. She leans her chin down onto her arms and stares longingly at the half-full glass. Her entire body is angled away oddly, her stomach closest to the bar. “What’re you doing here?”

Nicole gestures to Rosita. “A water? And another beer, please.” She turns to Wynonna and takes another long swallow from the beer glass already on the bar. “What did you say?”

“ _ Another  _ beer?” Wynonna asks. She’s doing her best to look scandalized but Nicole can see the exhaustion in the circles under her eyes. She lets out a heavy sigh. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

“Rosita texted me.”

Wynonna huffs. “Haught,” she warns.

“She said you made her promise not to call Waverly,” Nicole adds. “You’ve been here since 10 this morning.” She makes a show of checking her watch. “It’s nearly 3 in the afternoon. 

Wynonna backs down a little. “Waverly has got other things to do.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Nicole says quickly. She feels Wynonna glaring at her. “Oh come on. I just mean, she doesn’t have anything to do that isn’t as important as you are.”

Wynonna sighs. “I know. That’s the problem. She’d be all up in here, lecturing me about how standing  _ this close _ to the whisky can transfer alcohol thoughts or something to the baby’s brain.”

Nicole pauses, the beer glass about to touch her lips. “Uh, that’s not how that works.”

Wynonna waves a hand at her dismissively. “Whatever. What’re you doing with my beer?. Because me and that beer were going places.” She drags a finger through the condensation. “Morocco. London. My bed.”

Nicole looks pointedly at the beer glass in her hand and then at Wynonna. “Uh, I’m your DD.”

Wynonna frowns. “I’m pretty sure I’m not  _ that _ much of a mom yet. But DD means ‘designated-”

“Drinker’,” Nicole finishes. “I’m your ‘designated drinker’ for the night. Anything you want to drink, it goes through me.” Nicole makes a face. “Literally. I’ll probably pee very, very soon.”

Wynonna sits up, a hand going to the small of her back to offset the sudden change in position. She hisses and Nicole makes a mental note to tell Waverly that it seems like Wynonna’s back is bothering her. “Won’t you get in trouble with Waverly?” she asks. Her voice is small and soft, like she already knows the answer and she’s preparing herself to get bustled out into the car and driven home.

Nicole shrugs. “Probably.”

“Don’t you care about that?” Wynonna asks. She shreds a bar napkin into tiny pieces.

“Absolutely.”

Wynonna stares at her blankly. “Then why are you-”

Nicole rolls her eyes and puts the beer back down. “It’s what friends do, okay?”

“Is that what we are?”

Wynonna’s voice is small again. It tugs at Nicole’s chest and she takes a long sip of water, just for something to do to distract her from staring at Wynonna. She fumbles with the edge of the bar as she figures out what to say. “Wynonna.” She waits until Wynonna looks at her. “Just let me be your friend and drink these for you.”

Wynonna is quiet for a moment, staring at Nicole. She blinks and then sweeps a hand back, a show gesture. “By all means.”

Nicole picks up the beer and puts the glass to her lips. She pulls it back just slightly. “Just promise me you won’t let me get as drunk as last time?”

There’s a wicked gleam in Wynonna’s eyes, even as she promises she won’t.

Nicole takes a long drink from her beer and finds that she doesn’t care all that much anyway.


End file.
